Stages: Sometimes
by BregoBeauty
Summary: Lisa's moving on but a strange game of chance gets in the way. After someone attempts to murder her, she is reunited with Jackson, yet this time he holds control over her, despite her best efforts. Part One of 'Stages' Trilogy.
1. Chapter One

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Summary:** Lisa's moving on but a strange game of chance gets in the way. After someone attempts to murder her, she is reunited with Jackson, yet this time he holds control over her, despite her best efforts.

**Chapter One**

The first month was the hardest for Lisa Reisert. Jackson Rippner, the man who had terrorized her aboard flight 1019, the red-eye from Texas to Miami, was in the hospital recovering. The DA had yet to fill any formal charges against him and it was being to look like the charming assassination manager would walk without as much as a slap on the wrist. Lisa had lost her job at the hotel, leaving her job-less and no other employer was willing to hire her until the mess surrounding the Keefe assassination attempt was cleaned up.

She spent her new accumulated free time training herself to beat Jackson, should he dare to come after her again. He had said that he would and Jackson Rippner always kept his promises. She was not afraid of him—far from it—but she was determined to be prepared to face him again and she would finally kill him this time if the need be.

Lisa was not a killer but she was not going to let him kill her.

She ran every day and the slap-slap of her new sneakers against the hard pavement soothed her frazzled nerves and reminded her that she was alive. She refused to back down and become a loner or to be even mildly worried about Jackson. Her father was worried every day and he had begged her to move back into his house. She had refused and continued to live in her apartment.

She ran in the morning, despite whatever lack of sleep she was fighting from the night before. She had developed insomnia, which she reasoned would come in handy should Jackson return.

In the afternoon, she worked at either a firing range with a newly bought and registered gun—a .45 that she kept with her at all times thanks to the concealed weapons permit that she had—or took a self-defense class.

She was prepared for anything that Jackson might care to throw at her. She could even kill him a pen now. It was shame that she had not thought to drive the monster pen farther into his throat until he died…. Or even picked another spot to stab him—such as the jugular or maybe even his cold blackened heart.

To think that she had once trusted him and even had feelings for him made Lisa want to throw up. How could she have been so stupid? Hadn't the parking lot incident taught her anything? All men were slime, especially the charming ones like Jackson Rippner. They all wanted control and wanted to dominate woman. That's what rape was—a domination of a woman and a way to make her feel helpless.

Jackson had tried to make her feel helpless but his plan had backfired and she had landed him in the hospital. At first she had felt pity for nearly killing him, but as each day went by, she became more and more convinced that she should not care because he would have killed her in a second with no remorse or pity for her. He would not have thought twice.

She had wanted Jackson to be a nice man, she really had. Yet, after the near-strangulation in the confined airplane bathroom, Lisa had known that there was no future between them. He was a ruthless man with a job who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. As long as the phone call was made, he did not care what happened to her.

_But,_ her mind always screamed at her. _But he seemed concerned when he noticed that awful scar._

That one moment, even when coupled with the nice airport Jackson was not enough to make her change her mind about Jackson. Jackson Rippner was scum, no even lower than that. He was scum on the scum of the slime and deserved to die.

If she had her way, Jackson Rippner would soon be buried six feet under, no longer able to terrorize and control anyone. Then she could finally forget about him. She could stop dreaming about him at night, stopping wishing that he had been anything else except a manager and that they could have met under different circumstances.

But that was all just a dream and Lisa Reisert lived in the real world. And in the real world, Jackson Rippner needed to be, like all types of scum, eradicated.

**Author's Notes:**

I have about five or six new Red Eye fics I'm working on, but this one's the only one that's ready to go. I'm hoping that this story is a new twist on the wacky relationship that is JacksonLisa. This will probably be JacksonLisa, but I'm not 100 positive either way. Not for a long time though. Enjoy!


	2. Chapter Two

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Two**

Her phone rang, disturbing her mid-morning nap. After her run, she had stumbled into the apartment and then crawled into her soft bed. Lisa groaned and groggily answered it.

"Hello?" she muttered, her green eyes half-closed and her mind sound asleep.

"Lisa, honey, are you still asleep?" questioned Joe Reisert. It was only the beginning of a day filled with phone calls from him checking on her. She was lucky that he respected her need for sleep enough that he waited until around, according to the clock, 10:20am to start calling her.

"Now dad, if I was still sleeping, I wouldn't have answered the phone," mumbled Lisa, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. But it was too late. She was already waking up. Darn it, she really need to start sleeping at night like a normal person. As if she could ever be normal.

"Okay, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine, dad. Honest."

"If you say so," sighed Joe. He decided not to ask if she were sure. That tended to piss her off and she seemed edgy to begin with. "I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me today."

"Just say when and where and I'll be there," Lisa agreed, stretching as she made her way from her cozy bed to her closet. She tried to avoid looking the full length mirror, knowing that she was a mess—her loose-fitting and light weight tee shirt and shorts rumpled and her hair in a knotted mess that had once been a type of a cross between a ponytail and a bun. Now it was just a rat's nest from her restless nap.

"Okay. How about noon at that diner that you like so much?" Joe suggested, picking a casual setting.

Lisa nodded, pleased with the choice, "Sure. See ya then."

"Bye, Leese."

"Bye-bye, dad," Lisa said, hanging up. She sighed and stared into her closet. She really had no ambition to meet her dad for lunch, but rather than start a two-hour discussion with him, it was easier to concede and meet him for lunch. Now, she just had to hide her state from him. The circles under her eyes could be hidden with make-up, her toned, thinning frame with loose-fitting clothes—which would help conceal her gun—but how to hide her wandering thoughts about Jackson? She could not help but think about him every day and especially kept wondering if each day would be the day that he would finally return.

Lisa quickly showered and dressed in a pair of black slacks with trusty heels, a nice light blue blouse, and a black blazer to hide the .45. Her curly hair was damp, but she did not have the time to blow-dry it out.

She grabbed her keys and sped the way to the diner in her modest car, praying that she would be early. If she were even a half-a-second late, Joe would start to worry about her. It was nice that he cared so much, but he really needed to start learning to let go. If he had been a pestering worrywart before the red-eye flight, he had become ten times worse since that fateful night.

She ran into the diner at 11:58am and slid down into the booth across from her dad. The worry on his face dissipated as he realized that she was unharmed and on time.

"Hey, honey, how are you today?" he asked, smiling. He was very glad to see her.

"Fine, everything's fine," she murmured with a smile, sliding her blazer off and taking care that the gun remained hidden in the pocket as she laid it down beside her along with her purse.

"No one's following you again, are they?"

"Dad!" Lisa exclaimed, surprised that he would bring up Jackson. "There's no one too follow me, unless there's something you're not telling me."

"No, _he's_ still recovering. But I'm worried about you, Leese. You stay shut up in your apartment all day long…it's not healthy."

"Daddy, did you forget that I run at least twice a day, go to the firing range several times a week, and take self-defense classes? That's not exactly hiding in my apartment."

"I know all that but still…you need to have a life," Joe's voice was very worried.

"I do have a life and it will only get better once Jackson's gone."

"Lisa," his tone became stern. "You're not planning on doing anything _rash_ are you? Such as killing Rippner in the hospital?"

"No, I'm not stupid, dad. But if he comes after me, I will kill him," she insisted, her hand unconsciously reaching out to touch her jacket, her slim fingers tracing the cool metal of the .45 through her jacket. "He's done enough damage and I'm not about to let it continue."

"Okay…" he said solemnly. He was not pleased with Lisa's decision, but he knew that when it came to Jackson Rippner that Lisa was best left alone. She had kicked his ass once, so who was to say that she could not manage it twice?

They were silent for the rest of the meal. Joe did not dare bring up his concerns for her again and Lisa did not dare speak about Jackson. Finally, they were finished eating and it was time for them to go their separate ways.

"Bye, daddy," she said warmly, hugging her father tightly as she stood up from the booth, her purse in hand. "Thanks for lunch."

"Bye, Leese. Be careful, honey."

"I will," she promised with a smile before leaving the diner.

Lisa jogged to her car, eager to get home and change for an afternoon run. She was already late for her self-defense class, so she would just enjoy the rest of the day on her own. She unlocked the door and started the car, before she realized that her jacket was still inside the diner and along with the reassuring gun. She left the keys in the ignition and raced back to diner.

She had barely left the side of the car when it exploded, throwing her backwards into a brick wall. Her head pounded and she groaned.

Her world was growing dark and her first thought was _someone just tried to kill me_. She knew that she could not hang around the fiery car. She slowly started to run away from the fireball that had once been her car. She made it a few streets before she collapsed and her sore head was bashed into a sidewalk.

That's when it all went dark for Lisa Reisert.

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry to leave a cliffie, but it sets the stage for Jackson's arrival. The next chapter will be up as soon as I finish rewriting a chunk of it and editing it. It'll probably be up tomorrow. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far—your reviews made my day! Enjoy!


	3. Chapter Three

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Three**

"She's starting to come around," whispered a sweet, female voice near her as her eyelids began to flutter and she groaned. The lights were far too bright and her head was killing her.

"Where am I?" she croaked, her throat dry as her green eyes finally acquiesced and opened fully, allowing her to slowly adjust to the world. She did not recognize the busy hallway with its pale green tile and white walls nor the two people standing around her. It was completely unfamiliar.

"Ma'am, you're in the hospital. Jackson Memorial Hospital in Miami, to be exact. Can you tell us your name?" asked the nurse, quietly and calmly, as if people woke up in strange hospitals every day. Then again, they probably did.

"My name…my name is… I don't know…" she whispered, thinking hard. It seemed to have fled her mind. How could she have forgotten her own name? What had happened to her?

"Most likely amnesia," the nurse in the light blue scrubs with the sweet voice told the middle age doctor in the white lab coat beside her. "We'll need more tests to confirm though."

The doctor nodded his head, sandy blond hair shifting slightly. "Run the tests in a little bit, after she gets a chance to calm down."

"What happened to me?" she questioned. "What happened?"

"Sweetie," the nurse said, smiling widely at her. "You were found in downtown Miami, in the middle of the street. You're wounded for sure—cuts, bruises, and burns—besides just your head. No one knows for sure. Witnesses say that you were running and then just fell down."

"Fell?"

"Collapsed—in the middle of the street. There was no apparent reason for it."

She frowned. What could have caused her to be injured and to fall down in the middle of a street in downtown Miami? What had she done to herself? Or had had someone else…?

_"Did someone do that to you?"_

She shook her head, trying to clear it. It was a bad decision on her part. She moaned as she reached up to touch her sore head. She could feel a bandage wrapped around it. She must have hit it rather hard on the street to lose her memory.

"Well, I'll leave it to you," the doctor said to the kind nurse as the tell-tale sirens of an ambulance filled the air.

"Sure, Dr. Nagey," the nurse called, as the doctor jogged towards the ambulance entrance. "Oh, my name's Shirley."

"Nice to meet you, Shirley," she smiled, shaking the nurse's offered hand.

"What do you say we move you to a room? It's not going to be a private room because we're pretty booked up at the moment, but your new roommate isn't much of a talker," Shirley said, taking a hold on the bed and unlocking the wheels.

"I can walk," she said. "Please."

"If you think you can handle it…"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Shirley locked the wheels and helped her sit up.

A young man with dark hair falling into his face and covering his eyes, wearing a pair of green scrubs was slowly walking past. He froze and craned his head towards her, allowing her to catch a glimpse of his crystal blue eyes. He seemed confused to see her there.

"Easy does it, that's it," said Shirley as she helped the stranger from the bed. For the first time, Shirley got a good look at the hospital's Jane Doe. She was five foot something—Shirley was unsure due to the heels that were on the woman's feet. Very young and thin. Way too thin, judging by the way her clothes hung on her body. Yet she appeared to be in good shape.

The man quickly shook his head and kept walking. There was no way…nah; he would not even waste time thinking about it.

She stared after him, until Shirley's voice broke into her thoughts.

"Honey, are you ready to get going?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," she smiled. "I'm just a little…"

"Distracted? It happens to everyone in this place. Something's always happening…it really keeps you on your toes."

"I bet."

The two women carefully made their way through the crowded hallways, the new patient leaning heavily on the cheerful nurse. Shirley did not seem to mind and was animatedly chatting about the hospital and various patients. Finally, the pair came to a stop in front of a room and Shirley opened the wooden door.

"Welcome to your home for the time being," Shirley smiled as she led the young woman into the room. The room was bare, no flowers, balloons, or anything indicating that he had even once had a visitor. There was a small stack of books and magazines stacked on a table, but that was the only sign that anyone even lived in the room.

"It's…um…" she was unable to find words to describe it.

"It's kind of dull, but I'm sure that we can find some way to liven it up. Your roommate is a bit of a loner I'm afraid and keeps to himself. He's been here for a while due to long term injuries. He's a really nice man though."

The Jane Doe nodded in understandment. "Thanks Shirley."

"Don't thank me yet. We still need to find out your name…"

"What the hell?" came a new voice from the hallway and the two turned to face the dark-haired man that she had noticed staring at her in the busy hospital hallway earlier. _This_ was her roommate?

"Oh, Mr. Rippner, this is just perfect timing!" gushed Shirley, hurrying over to help pull him into the room. He looked annoyed but seemed too tired to put up a fight.

"It is?" he questioned.

"Hi," she said, sticking out her hand to shake his. "I'm…actually I don't know who I am."

"You look awfully familiar," Rippner said, craning his head to look at her, blue eyes taking in every detail. "Do you remember me?"

"No," she shook her head, then winced and reached up to rub it softly. "Ah, I keep forgetting."

"I'll leave you two alone to get acquainted," Shirley said, before slipping out of the room with a smile on her face. It was smile that a friend gave you after hooking you up with someone they deemed 'worthy' or 'good' for you.

She wanted to protest, but she was held captive by this man's charming smile and good looks. Now the smile was a smirk, as if he knew a secret. She knew he knew a secret…he had recognized her.

Who was she? And how did he know her?

**Author's Notes:**

And the plot thickens! Yeah, the 'she' is Lisa. She'll get a name in the next chapter, just not her own. Jackson's going to have a lot of fun messing with her mind. Thanks for all the kind reviews! Next chapter tomorrow, I hope! Enjoy!


	4. Chapter Four

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Four**

Jackson Rippner had been rather surprised and amused to see Lisa Reisert again, especially in the same hospital in which he was currently confined. The best part of the situation was even though he knew it was her; she had no clue who he was. According to what he had overheard from other nurses during his afternoon stroll, Lisa had suffered unknown head trauma and her brain had shut down her memories. There was no identification found on her—purse, wallet, and keys were all missing. Nothing with even the slightest clue to her identity could be found.

He limped into his room, thanks to the goddamn high heel shoe that she had stuck into his left thigh. That one had left a rather intriguing scar, not to mention the rival one located on his throat. Oh, she had been resourceful alright—he would give her that much credit. He still wanted to hurt her as retribution and repayment for his injuries and the hell he would endure for falling his job.

But where was the fun in that when she had not the vaguest idea as to his identity? She had no clue of her own name; let alone what had transpired between them. He would have fun messing with her mind. He would be avenged one day, once she remembered.

If she ever remembered…until then he could use this situation for his own twisted desires. He had no future with Lisa Reisert, but then again this was not Lisa. This woman had no name.

There could be a future with her now, even if it was only for a short period of time. Jackson needed to get his wandering mind off Lisa Reisert and who was better suited to the job than a memory-less Lisa? He would never be in love with her because it did not serve him and his ice-cold heart. He could fake emotion, love, kindness, and care. It would never be real and she would never know until he was finished toying with her.

He held all the cards and he was enjoying it very much. This time, Lisa Reisert would not be getting away. Now, he just needed to find her and come up with a name…

Luckily for him, Lisa Reisert was standing right in front of him—in his room. His job had just gotten easier. Not to mention that the nosy nurse had dragged him over to see her.

"So, uh, how are you feeling? Does your head hurt much?" he questioned.

_"Thinking when you should be acting will only make your head hurt."_

She visibly flinched at the familiarity of the words. Jackson mentally kicked himself. He needed to think before he spoke more carefully, lest he spoil the game before he had his fun. "Yeah, kind of like when you've had too many drinks," she smiled.

"I know what you mean," Jackson replied with a smile. This was going to be easier than he had thought.

"You do?"

"Who hasn't had a hangover or something similar in their life?"

"True," she started to nod her head in agreement, but he reached out to steady her head, stopping her.

"That's probably not a good idea."

"Thanks, I'm having a hard time getting used to it. The injury and not knowing who I am."

Jackson sighed. Where to begin? Oh, how about a nice little story…

"I can't believe you're here—alive," he remarked, feigning astonishment.

"Why wouldn't I be?" was her puzzled response. She knew that he was holding back information about her. Information that she craved. He would give her information—false information that would serve his own ends.

"You disappeared shortly after our engagement. You've been missing for five years, Amy. Five whole years…" he shook his head in amazement, dark hair swaying.

"What did you call me?" she asked in shock. He had let a name 'slip out'.

"Amy," he continued, creating his fiancée, the love of his life. Not the woman he wanted to harm. "That's your name. Amy Alison Adams."

"It doesn't…feel right," she sighed.

"You've always said that," reassured Jackson as he slowly sat on the edge of her bed. "You were going to have it legally changed."

"Why does it feel so odd?"

"You're adopted, Amy. You don't know anything about your birth parents and your name was something else, yet your adoptive parents refused to let your name stay the same and kept your birth certificate hidden."

"How do you know all this?" Lisa was still in shock.

"You told me. Amy, you told me all of this a long time ago. I don't know if you ever found anything out because shortly afterwards, you disappeared. I thought for the longest time that you had died."

"What's your name?" she wanted to know.

"Jackson. Jackson Rippner. Never Jack."

"Why not?"

"Amy, we don't really want to get into my past, now do we? We've been down that road before and nothing good comes of it."

"But I don't remember anything, Jackson."

Jackson felt a tinge of pleasure as she said his name. He had her right where he wanted her—eating out of his hand. Lisa Reisert was finally under his control and obeying him. She was being a rather obedient dog at the moment. Hopefully it would last long enough for him to have a little fun with her.

"That's okay, Amy. We've got all the time in the world. I'm not letting you disappear again," he said with a wide smile as she sat down beside him and he slipped an arm around her shoulders. "I'm never letting you go without a fight."

**Author's Notes:**

Jackson's got a plan for Lisa. I can assure you that he is up to no good. Thanks for all the kind reviews! The next chapter should be up on Sunday. Enjoy!


	5. Chapter Five

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Five**

Joe Reisert clicked the news on and walked into the kitchen later that afternoon. It was around 4 o'clock and almost time for him to call Lisa. He was trying his best to call her less often seeing how it always annoyed her. But she was his only child and he was naturally concerned about her after all that she had been through.

He went about the business of making coffee and once it was finished brewing, he poured himself a mug and headed back into the TV room. He froze before he could make it to his favorite chair, conveniently seated in front of the TV. His eyes were fixed up the TV and the coffee cup he had been carrying fell from his hands and plummeted to the hardwood floor, shattering and allowed the contents to creep across the floor. He sank into his chair and turned the volume up, his ears straining to hear the words of the reporter.

"Earlier today, a car exploded in downtown Miami. No one survived the blast and it is suspected that person who was in the car was killed. The car was registered to a Miss Lisa Reisert, whose belongings were found burned in the car. There is no sign of a body yet," said the reporter as the footage rolled of the fiery car.

It was Lisa's car all right. He knew it even after the damage that had been caused by the explosion. The new station flashed a picture of Lisa, smiling and happy and continued on about his daughter, speculating on what might have caused the explosion and the death of his daughter.

"Miss Reisert was known locally as the manager of the Lux Atlantic hotel, until the attempted assassination of Deputy Director of Homeland Security, Charles Keefe. Her role in the assassination attempt has never been officially established and one can only assume that her death is related to the same incident," commented the reporter.

Joe Reisert was willing to bet money that _he_ had something to do with it. Assassins do not simply change their stripes, despite what the court of law was inclined to believe. Jackson Rippner had been tried and found innocent, yet Joe did not believe it. After what had been done to his daughter, he knew that Rippner would never change. Neither Jackson nor Lisa had been present at the trial and Joe had spared Lisa the news of her captor's victory. She had already dug a deep enough hole for herself and he would not dare add to it.

Yet, she was now dead and Jackson Rippner was soon to be a free man. He would get away with murdering his daughter. Sadness over Lisa's death quickly gave way to anger towards the one man he believed to be responsible.

Jackson Rippner was at fault…and Joe Reisert would make sure that the younger man knew _exactly_ what he thought about it.

* * *

"Jackson," Amy said, turning to face the blue-eyed man seated beside her. "Why did you ever let me go to begin with?"

Jackson sighed. "You told me to leave you alone and I listened. I never should have listened…"

"Whatever happened to me—it wasn't your fault…" she started to say but his finger on her lips silenced her. She sat, stunned as he spoke.

"Listen to me, Amy; I'm at fault for anything that happened. It was my job to look after you and I failed. I let you get away. Anything could have happened to you in those five years. I loved you and I let you get hurt. It's my fault," he said with another sigh and his finger dropped from her lips.

"I'm immensely stubborn—you wouldn't have been able to follow me," Amy teased, trying to lighten the mood. It did not seem right to her for Jackson to be so down and depressed. Surely, that was not his personality…

"True, true," he said, his face breaking into a smile. "God, I've missed you. I'll never forgive myself…"

"Shut up," she ordered and covered his lips lightly with her own in a brief kiss. "Just shut up."

Jackson was stunned and speechless after the kiss. Once he snapped out of his trance, he shook his head and stood up, backing away from her. "This isn't right," he declared, burying his hands in his dark hair.

Amy looked confused. "What isn't right?" she demanded. "You said we were engaged."

"For fuck's sake Amy, that was over five years ago! How could you possibly expect to waltz right back into my life? I haven't the slightest clue where you've been for those years! For all I know, you could have a whole other life with another man…" Jackson was clearly distressed and began limping in a mocking version of pacing. "We—I…it can't be this way."

"Why the hell not?" she wanted to know. If they loved each other, how could it be wrong? She had feelings for him in her heart and surely he had feelings for her. As for another life, how would that have been possible when it felt like the only man she had ever loved was standing in front of her?

"It's just not right. Not until we know what happened to you," he insisted, still pacing and staying away from her.

"You're far too good for me," she smiled. "Most other men would have taken advantage of the situation."

He stopped pacing and focused his gaze on her. "I'm not like other men, Amy."

"I know."

* * *

She knew? How the hell could she know? What did she know? Her memory could not already be back or else she would have starting screaming and trying to hurt him. Whatever it was could not be related to his job.

He was still surprised at his ability to manipulate her. He was receiving a sick pleasure from his games. He knew exactly what to say in order to produce the right reactions. Jackson Rippner was not a simpering fool who wallowed in self-pity. Jackson did not refuse advances coming from the right woman either.

Lisa Reisert was wrapped around his little finger and he was having a hell of a good time stringing her along. Soon, he would have her doing back flips and other equally absurd things on command. She was going to be a well-trained bitch once he was finished with her.

And when she was happy and believed every lie out of his mouth, he would extract his revenge then. He would bring her created world crashing down around her and when the moment was right, he would finish the job and kill her.

Revenge would be sweet…

**Author's Notes:**

Jackson's really enjoying his time with Lisa and I thought I'd give everyone a glimpse into his sick and twisted mind. We're going to delve deeper into his mind later on. And the amount of language used with began to start picking up, so I'm warning you now. It's just because Jackson's mind is a scary and dirty place later on. If things go according to plan that is… Anyways, thanks to everyone who's been reviewing. Enjoy!


	6. Chapter Six

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Six**

She had feelings for him but why couldn't he begin to see it? She knew in her heart that she loved him and memories or not, they belonged together. Amy felt like an idiot for throwing herself at him, even if it had only been to shut him up. Self-pity did not suit him. She had a nagging feeling that it was only for her benefit. But why would Jackson lie to her, even if it was to supposedly make her feel better about what she had done and what might have happened?

She sensed that something was brewing beneath the surface and she craved information. She wanted to get inside his head and find out what he was thinking. He did not appear to be like other men, who always seemed to think with a certain part of their brain far from their brain.

Jackson was being utterly logical despite the strange situation. She admired his ability to remain cool and collected under the circumstances. Amy was having a hard time not getting over-emotional herself. It was nerve-wracking, not knowing who you are and what you have been doing. Luckily Jackson was there to help fill in some bits and pieces.

A knock sounded on the open door, causing both of them to jump. It was Shirley, the nurse that had befriended her earlier. She was carrying something in her hands.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said with a wide smile. Amy could not help but noticing Jackson rolling his eyes.

"No, don't be silly," Amy smiled warmly. "We were just talking and we made a breakthrough."

"You did?" Shirley did not seem surprised.

"Yeah, it turns out that we knew each other. We were engaged," Jackson offered, plastering a happy look upon his face. It looked utterly false to Amy. "Five years ago."

"Really? I'm glad you found each other. So what happened between you two?"

"Amy," Jackson indicated her and Shirley nodded, mentally acknowledging the name to place on her chart. "Disappeared and I haven't heard from or seen her until now. Not in those five long years." He sighed sadly, almost as if he deeply regretted not chasing her.

He obviously cared for her. That was as plain as day. So why was he so worried about upsetting her and telling her all about them? He was avoiding their relationship. He had been so shocked by the kiss and then his logical replies made her believe that he was avoiding her. Had he gotten over her and moved on? Why had she left him all those years back?

"Aw, that's a real shame. At least you've found each other again. Now you've got a second chance," Shirley said cheerfully. "Miss… uh…"

"Adams... Amy Alison Adams," supplied Jackson, taking control as her thoughts wandered.

"Okay. Miss Adams, I've got some scrubs for you. They're much more comfortable than those hospitals gowns and I'm sure you want out of those dirty clothes," Shirley held out the plastic-wrapped bundle of clothes out to her.

"Oh, thank you so much," Amy replied, smiling widely. In the excitement of finding Jackson, she had almost forgotten about why she was there in the first place as well as her current state.

"Before I forget—Mr. Rippner, someone wants to see you. I'm told it was urgent."

"Where?" sighed Jackson, sounding annoyed. Amy could barely suppress a giggle. He was so childish at times.

"Employee lounge. I'll be back to check on you later, Amy," Shirley said and then she was gone, pulling the door closed behind her.

"I guess I'd better go then."

"I'll see you in a bit, I guess," Amy said sadly. She really wanted to continue talking with Jackson. She had so many questions.

"We'll finish talking when I get back."

Amy whispered, "Okay," and trudged off towards the bathroom as Jackson limped out of the room.

She locked the bathroom door behind her and flicked on the lights. She eyed herself in the mirror and headed straight to the shower. She turned the hot water on and then quickly shrugged her ruined clothes off and stepped into the steamy shower.

The hot water felt heavenly on her sore muscles and it was refreshing to wash the grime and dirt off her skin. It helped her sore head as well, even though it soaked through the bandage that she had forgotten to remove. She unwrapped her head and winced as the water fell upon the tender bump and cuts. She stood there for a few moments, enjoying the heat and relaxing before she started washing her cuts and minor burns.

Twenty some odd minutes later, she emerged from the shower and wrapped a towel around herself before walking over to wipe the steam from the mirror. Amy gasped and backed up quickly, crashing into the wall as she noticed the red scar above her breast. She had not noticed it during her shower, being so preoccupied with cleaning her cuts and whatnot.

What had happened to her? Suddenly, suddenly she remembered.

She had been in a parking lot, yes a parking lot. In broad daylight… She was walking along and then suddenly, she was attacked. She could smell his rotten breath and the sweat clinging to him as he forced her to the ground and placed the knife blade at her throat. She could hear herself pleading and his gruff voice telling her to shut up and then…and then… The cut and the rape… the pain melded together.

Amy broke down in tears as she relived the memory—her first memory. She could not bring herself to look at that terrible scar and quickly slipped the green scrubs, which were identical to Jackson's, on. The v-neck of the scrubs barely covered her scar.

Sobbing, she stumbled out of the bathroom, leaving her old clothes scattered on the floor with the towel. She collapsed on her bed and curled up into a ball and rocked back and forth, trying to calm herself. When she could not stop the tears and pain, she pressed the nurse call button.

A harried looking nurse, not Shirley, came racing into the room, and she seemed shocked at Amy's state. "Ma'am, you need something?"

"Yes…Jackson…find Jackson…please," Amy begged, not looking up as she still attempted to soothe herself.

"Jackson who?"

"Rippner. Just find him!"

The nurse scurried away, leaving her alone. Amy needed Jackson, she needed to tell him about the scar and the memory and she needed him to hold her and comfort her. He did not know about it, she knew he had not a clue. He would blame himself.

She hated feeling this way…so weak, used, and defenseless. Completely defeated was the best way to describe it. And she needed Jackson to make the pain go away…

**Author's Notes:**

It figures that her first memory would be a painful one. Hopefully she's not too OOC but I'm thinking that remembering the rape is going to be a shock and cause her to become more dependant on Jackson, which is just what he wants. Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Seven**

A scant few minutes later, a frazzled Jackson limped full speed into the hospital room. He froze as his gaze fell on her, still huddled in a ball and tears flowing down her cheeks. She looked up as she heard the distinct rasping sound that belonged to his throat. Amy raced from the bed and to his side, throwing her arms around him and her tears soaking his scrub top.

Jackson was unsure of what to do at first and stiffly wrapped his arms around her. Once he felt more comfortable, he started to slowly rub her back and tried to calm her with his voice. He said nonsensical phrases that he had picked up from bad romantic movies on cable TV. The words seemed to do the trick and the sobs became less frequent.

"I'm…sorry…" she choked out.

"About what?" Jackson inquired.

"Leaving…I never should have left!"

"Hey, hey," he soothed, sensing an emotional breakdown coming. "That was in the past. It's okay now. You're back. It's okay."

"No, no it's not. He hurt me, Jackson, he hurt me…" more tears were streaking down her pale face, staining it.

"Who hurt you Amy? Who?" he managed to force out, as his heart stopped. Did she know? Could she possible have remembered him?

"It was in a parking lot…he raped me!" Amy cried, breaking down in his arms, clinging to him tightly. Jackson tried to support her weight and his and keep them both standing.

"Amy…I had no idea," he lied and guided her towards his bed, which was the closest. He sat down and helped her up.

"I could see it all, Jackson… It was like it was happening all over again."

Amy curled against him and he wrapped his arms around her as comforting as he could think they would be. It was a strange experience for him, having his former captive come crying to him and then clinging to him. He had always avoided crying women, yet it was somehow different this time. He felt honestly bad for her and wanted to help her rather than say something particularly nasty or run the other way.

Jackson had never been so confused in his whole life. He was supposed to be enjoying this torture, not wanting to end it.

"He left a scar—the knife slipped," Amy continued, grabbing his hand and placing it on the scar. Jackson could not help but stare at the ugly mark that marred her perfect body.

Anger welled up inside him. Fury directed at the man who had marked her as his when she belonged to Jackson. No one could touch her. She was his property.

"I swear, I'll never let anyone hurt you again," he whispered in her ear.

"Jackson, stay, stay with me," Amy whimpered.

"I won't leave you," he promised, smoothing her curly hair as she relaxed against him, her frail body wracked only by the occasional sob. Her eyelids drooped and she fell into a fitful sleep.

Things were working out better than to plan…except for her father. Joe Reisert could not seem to leave well enough alone. The older man had insisted upon seeing him and accused him outright of murdering Lisa. He told Jackson all about the bombing that had occurred that afternoon and led him to his prize.

Everyone believed that Lisa Reisert was dead, not curled up in bed with him. He smirked widely, and pulled a blanket over his sleeping victim. Amy mumbled and snuggled in closer to him, her fingers entwined in his shirt. She was so close to him, closer than she had ever been—even in the bathroom.

It would only be too easy now. Amy was addicted to him and she was not likely to question him. But she was regaining memories…which meant he had to work fast. She was not going to get away from him again. He would have his revenge and his fun.

**Author's Notes:**

Kind of a short chapter, but oh well! Jackson's torn now with his feelings. Part of him loves her, part of him wants to hurt her. Thanks again for the reviews! Enjoy!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Eight**

The following morning, Amy opened her green eyes and started to scream involuntarily. However, her scream was quickly cut off by a fast-acting, soft hand covering her mouth. Her eyes were wide and shifting, trying to figure out what was happening to her. She had just woken up, in bed of all places, with Jackson Rippner holding her close.

"Hey, hey," he soothed. "It's just me. It's just me, Amy. Relax."

Amy tried to respond through words, seeing as her head was still too sore to nod.

"If I let go, do you promise not to scream?" Jackson questioned, his blue eyes softly focused on her.

A muffled "uh-huh" seemed to do the trick because he released her.

"Are you okay?"

"What happened? Did we—?" Amy was puzzled and worried as a million questions raced through her head, along with zillions of wild answers.

"No, nothing of the sort," he replied hurriedly. "You were upset, remember? You fell asleep clinging to me and I didn't have the heart to move you."

"The scar…"

"It was in the past, Amy. The scar was in the past. You're safe now."

Amy snuggled in closer to him, relaxing more now. She was edgy and nervous for reasons beyond her reach. The only thing familiar that she had was Jackson, a kind man who cared for her. She had to reply upon him—which felt wrong and right at the same time.

"I'm so scared," she admitted, knowing that he would figure out the thoughts in her head before long. She did not feel like playing games with him today.

"About what?" he sounded surprised as he rubbed her back gently, relaxing the tense muscles.

"My past—what other horrors might it hold? What else happened to me? Without you, what did I get myself into?"

"Let's not dwell on the past, huh? 'Always look forward', Amy."

"Henrietta," Amy blurted out and Jackson's face grew confused and a spark of concern flew into his eyes. "Someone named Henrietta said that. And I told you, in an airport…"

"You're remembering again," he smiled.

"What am I remembering?" Amy frowned. This memory stuff was being to get on her nerves. She could occasionally see flashes and certain words would sound familiar, but her mind was still a jumbled mess.

"Our first meeting. We met in an airport check-in line. We were on the same flight. We shared a drink, talked, and went our separate ways."

"How did we see each other again?" Amy wanted to know. She wanted to know everything about her relationship with Jackson.

"It just so turned out that we were seated next to each other on the plane. We talked some more and exchanged numbers after we went to a Starbucks for lattés after we landed in Miami."

"Did I live in Miami?"

"Yes, you did, but we moved to Texas and that's where you vanished from."

"And you?" she asked, carefully studying his reactions. She hoped with all her heart that he had not been involved with another woman. "What did you do after I disappeared?"

"I stayed in Texas for another year, just waiting for you. Then I started traveling because of my job. I just moved back to Miami before I was hurt."

Her hand reached up to his throat, touching the red, circular scar upon it. "What happened to you?"

"A pen. Luckily, it only hit my windpipe."

"Yeah," she half-smiled. "Lucky you."

He raised his dark eyebrows. "Are you okay, Amy?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just fine."

"Are you sure?"

_Are you sure? Are you sure?_

Those words—they were so familiar, yet Jackson was not the one who usually asked the question. It was someone else…someone close to her.

"Amy? Amy?" his voice called out.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "I just dozed off."

Jackson did not seem satisfied with her answer, but thankfully he let it go. Not, that he had much choice. It was at that moment, that a doctor and two nurses saw it fit to enter their room and disturb them.

"Oh my…" remarked one of the nurses, her mouth falling upon as she stared at Jackson and Amy.

It took Amy a second to figure out what was so incredibly wrong with the picture. Then, she realized that they were in a rather, compromising position. Jackson and Amy were both crammed in Jackson's bed, covered with a blanket, their hair and clothes in extreme disarray, and Amy was pretty much on top of Jackson and they were rather tangled together. Suddenly, she got the hint.

_This isn't a motel_ scolded a woman.

When? Where? Had this happened before? A similar situation in which people assumed that her and Jackson had well, had sex together? Of course they probably had, seeing as they were engaged. But not in well over five years.

"Um, good morning, Mr. Rippner, Miss Adams," stuttered one of the doctors despite his shocked appearance.

"Hello," said Jackson cheerfully. "So what brings you here? More tests?"

"Yes, Miss Adams, if you would…"

Amy turned to face Jackson, a pleading look in her eyes. She did not want to leave him.

"Can I walk with you?" Jackson asked the doctors, for Amy's benefit. "It's time for my morning walk, so can I accompany you to the room?"

"Um, sure thing, Mr. Rippner. We'll wait for you."

Jackson nodded and whispered to Amy, while resting his hand on her cheek, "It's going to be fine, okay? Just go sit on your bed for a moment so they can make sure I'm still alive."

"Okay," she replied and carefully got down from Jackson's bed and shuffled over to her own.

The nurse helped one of the doctors examine Jackson and check his wounds and the bandages covering them. After pronouncing him fine, Amy returned to his side, grabbing his hand. Jackson one-upped her, and slipped his arm around her trim waist, pulling her closer in a protective and possessive move. She slid her arm around his waist as well, linking them together as they followed the doctors and nurse through the busy hallways. She did not know what she would do or would have done without Jackson there.

**Author's Notes:**

Amy had a bit of a shock waking up. She's placing an awful lot of trust in Jackson, especially as her memories keep returning and some of them are supporting his story. Enjoy! We'll get to peek into Jackson's mind in the next chapter.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Nine**

Jackson saw Amy safely to the exam room, where the doctors kindly, yet urgently, kicked him out to take his morning jaunt around the hospital. He rather enjoyed his walks—it gave him a chance to study other people, to watch them, learn their habits. He needed to do something other than mope about in his room and hope that his employers would not come after him for revenge.

But now, now things had changed. Jackson had manipulating to do. Lisa Reisert was finally his—his for the taking, his to exploit. She did not know that most everything was a lie. There was no Amy Alison Adams and she most surely was not her. Jackson had not known Lisa five years ago and had he, he would have made sure that she had never known about his job and married her.

Yes, marriage. It was an odd thing for a former assassination manager to think about, especially about a former victim who had nearly killed you. Lisa was his and he wanted her to be legally his. He wanted to mess with her brain, make her feeble and weak, and sleep with her any time he wanted to. Control was more pleasing than sex, but the domination of Lisa—the complete domination of her against her will or not, was rather interesting to him. Fucking Lisa would be rewarding, and well worth his time. He would enjoy it much more once she learned the truth and realized what was really going on, and if he planned it right, he would make sure she was unable to leave him before she remembered.

He was not above drugging her and smashing her head into a wall to keep her from remembering until the time was right. His revenge had to be exact and rewarding for him. He had always wondered what it would be like to have Lisa screaming his name and responding to his every command and movement. In her current state, she was a docile, obedient dog. He knew that somewhere inside her lurked a fierce predator, ready to pounce on him and rip this throat out. He wanted the best of both her sides—he wanted control, yet he wanted her to fight him.

That's why Lisa Reisert was so intriguing—she fought back, she fought his control. She was only one to ever keep fighting time after time. She was strong-willed and he loved her for it. Well, not exactly loved, more like admired. But he wanted that iron will of his to break and crumble due to him. He wanted to bend and shape her to suit his needs.

He was going to dominate her the best way he knew how and destroy her from the inside out. He would convince Amy that he was this other Jackson; that they had this past together and loved each other. The foundation of the trust building was already there and she hated to leave his side now. She was right where he wanted her.

Now, he had to convince her to marry him. The sooner, the better. He wanted her to have a life with him before her memory returned. He wanted to repulse her thoroughly and force her into an emotional breakdown.

What better way to destroy Lisa than to make her believe that she was in love with the man who nearly killed her, be married to him, make love to him, and trust him, only to find out that it was only a sick, twisted mind game? It was cruel, but so was being stabbed in the windpipe with a pen, the thigh with a high heel, and then being shot twice? That was all without mentioning the blows to his egotistical male pride and the numerous other bruises that he had suffered. Nearly being killed by a girl did not belong on the résumé of a highly trained and skilled assassination manager.

Jackson Rippner would get his revenge. He was going to have his fun. Lisa Reisert was going to squirm like a tiny ant being fried under a magnifying glass in the hot summer sun before he was finished. Her destruction would give him a much needed ego boost.

He could not wait.

**Author's Notes:**

Jackson's got a sick and twisted mind. He really does. It's all a game to him and the prize is hurting Lisa. Sorry that it's a short chapter, but it kind of needs to stand on its own. In the next chapter, Jackson's going to be proposing to Lisa and speeding a marriage along. He knows that it's only a matter of time until she figures it out or before Joe does. Enjoy!


	10. Chapter Ten

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Ten**

Amy was exhausted when she returned to the empty hospital room that she shared with Jackson Rippner. The nurse had given her new scrubs, which were blue this time around. She had taken a shower and somehow managed to avoid looking at her scar. It disgusted her and she preferred to forget about it. She tried to relax in the hot water and willed a memory, any memory, to return to her.

Finally, when she was ready to give up and leave the nice, warm water, a memory returned. But this memory, like the one before it, was unpleasant.

She was hiding in a pale green bathroom. There was some loud noises come from the other side of the locked white door. She could feel fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins as she looked around the small room. She slipped out of the bathroom through another door and hurried into a bedroom with a decidedly pink spread.

This was her childhood room. Her turf and this was were the fight for her very life was taking place. She grabbed a nearly forgotten black and yellow field hockey stick from the back of her closet; the fiberglass heavy and reassuring in her tight grip. She was ready to fight whoever was in her house and she was prepared to win.

The memory ended suddenly and Amy was left breathless and with her heart racing. Someone had been stalking her and trying to kill her. Was that part of the reason for her memory loss? Had she nearly been murdered?

Amy dressed quickly and padded softly into the room. Jackson was still gone and she was all alone and vulnerable. She yawned and looked between the two beds, realizing how exhausted she was. She climbed into Jackson's, relieved that his scent still lingered around it, relaxing her and promising her that she was safe. She allowed her green eyes to close in slumber.

She awoke a few hours later to find Jackson standing beside her, stroking her hair, untangling the tight curls with his slim fingers.

"Hey," she whispered in greeting.

"Did you have a nice nap?" he asked, curiosity showing in his crystal blue eyes as well a hint of happiness.

"Yeah. I really needed it."

"Any more memories come back while I was gone?" he wanted to know.

"Just one—I'm in a green bathroom and someone's trying to break down the door. I slip out of the room and into my childhood bedroom. I find a field hockey stick in the closet. I feel scared—I know I'm fighting for my life—and determined…" her face fell and her grew softer with every word. Jackson looked worried.

"Amy, no one's gonna hurt you again. I'm here now," Jackson whispered, bending down to kiss her forehead.

The kiss was light and warm and Amy's heart jumped in joy. Jackson had finally kissed her. It was not on the lips, but a kiss was a kiss.

Amy smiled and Jackson looked somewhat embarrassed. "Thanks," she whispered.

"For?" he looked confused yet his voice had a teasing tone at same time.

"Caring. You could have pretended not to know me and tried to move on…"

"No, I couldn't do that Amy. I…I still love you. I'm not letting you get away ever again."

Amy's jaw dropped at his declaration. She was pleased—she was sure that she loved him too, but it was still unexpected. He was after all very attractive and could have moved on. Yet he had not. All these years he had spent waiting for her to wander back into his life.

"Jackson…I love you too…"

A cocky grin came across his face. A hand reached out to hers and he slipped something cool into it. Amy looked down and gasped. Jackson grinned and bent down on one knee.

"Amy Adams, will you marry me—actually marry me this time?" Jackson asked, his eyes boring into hers, trying to gauge her reaction. Had his proposal come too soon?

"Yes…" she stammered breathlessly as Jackson slipped the simple diamond ring on left-handed ring finger. "Yes, I'll marry you."

A wide smile crossed Jackson's face as once he stood up, Amy flung herself at him, hugging him tightly.

Jackson Rippner was pleased. She was willingly his. She had consented of her own free will. Lisa Reisert had given in to him and his charms.

He could tell how happy she was and he could not resist the pull any longer. He kissed her on the lips forcefully, and with what she would see as passion. He told himself that it was nothing more than lust. He had longed to kiss her since shortly after revealing himself. Just to prove that he could.

Much to his uncontainable joy and pride, Amy kissed him back.

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry that I was a little slow updating today. Next chapter should be up tomorrow! Enjoy!


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Warning:** Some mature content. Proceed with caution.

**Chapter Eleven**

"Umm…Jackson…" Amy gasped between kisses, as Jackson found himself unable to stop kissing her.

Hearing her say his name only egged him on. She knew exactly who was teasing her; kissing her. She was his helpless victim, and unable to turn him down and force him away from her. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. But he knew in the back of his mind that he did not love her. Jackson Rippner did not love anyone; he could not. There was no capacity for love in his cold heart. It was only lust and the need for control that occupied his mind, not love.

There was no love between them. They were both just two false identities. There was no Amy Alison Adams and there was no Jackson Rippner. They were both fake. But both knew no other name. Jackson had once had another name, but he no longer remembered it.

Amy was stepping backwards, pulling him with her. He spun her around and smashed her into a wall. His right hand found a hold around her throat, gripping it slightly, and reminding himself that this was real and not a fantasy. His left hand explored her body and she occasionally trembled under his touch.

"Oh…Jackson…please…" she begged of him. "Take me…now…"

She moaned as his lips trailed down to her throat. He grinned. She was his, his for the taking. She had given her consent but he could have at any time taken her. Any time that he wanted. He was in control. And he was enjoying playing with his prey.

"Please…Jackson…"

She was boosting his battered ego just by speaking his name. She did not know what affect her words had on him.

Their kisses grew rougher and Amy wrapped her legs around his waist. Jackson smirked and decided to move them over to his bed. He laid Amy down on her back and slowly stripped her scrub top off, his crystal-blue gaze lingering on the scar. She did not seem to notice his eyes. Hatred rose in him at the sight of the imperfection marring her gorgeous skin and body.

"Stop playing…" she begged as her green eyes bored into his. "You're such a tease…"

He rolled his eyes. He was enjoying making her wait even though he really had just wanted to do it already. But he had to keep control. His emotions and hormones could not rule. Logic had to reign supreme.

"Aw, Amy, don't tell me you've forgotten our game? You loved the foreplay," he smirked and ran a hand down her thigh.

"I must have…forgotten!" she gasped. "Oh…please, for fuck's sake…Jackson…"

Amy could not stand it anymore. She ripped his shirt over his head. She did not seem to notice the scars that riddled his chest. She helped him pull off the blue bottoms that she wore, exposing her satiny panties.

She was sick of the game. She wanted him. What a strange position to be in.

He obliged, removing his bottoms as well, flinging the green scrubs to the floor. Amy's hands pulled down his boxers as he removed her panties and her bra. They were both completely naked now.

Jackson settled himself and Amy sighed in relief as he entered her.

He could not help but smirk the whole time. He was finally fucking Lisa Reisert with her knowledge and consent. Hell, she had begged him. Victory was sweet.

He memorized her; every sigh and moan that escaped her luscious lips was committed to memory. He knew exactly which buttons to push before long and she was completely under his control. He loved the way she said his name.

Jackson did not speak much, and the one time he did, he made the biggest mistake ever by far. He said her name, her real name. He called her "Leese".

Amy had frozen. "Leese? Who's Leese?" she gasped.

Jackson stopped too, shocked that he had been so careless. "No one."

"You're lying."

"Fine," he snapped. "She was a hooker that looked like you. I used to call her by your name, but eventually I learned to call her by her name."

"Jackson… Do you still love me?"

"Amy, I never stopped. I never let you go."

"I believe you," she whispered, kissing him.

Jackson Rippner smiled. He had just told the best lie of his life. Now, he just had to not slip up ever again.

Amy urged him to continue, using her body. Jackson snapped back to reality and finished what he had started. They climaxed together and he collapsed on her, exhausted. They were both gasping for air and covered in sweat.

For the first time in his life, Jackson Rippner was truly happy. Fucking her had been incredible. She had been a very obedient bitch, with just enough spunk to please him. He had wanted her all along and he had finally gotten her.

Jackson Rippner always got what he wanted.

**Author's Notes:**

Wow, that's the hottest chapter I've ever written. Jackson's lucky that Amy didn't press the matter any more than she did. He's pretty sick-minded, playing with her so much. And he still believes that he doesn't love her. Hopefully, this is a believable chapter. Enjoy!


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Twelve**

Amy awoke a while later and her mind was spinning. Had it all been a dream? She looked down at her left hand and the diamond engagement ring sparkled back. No, it had been real. Which meant…

Sure enough, she was lying beside a sleeping Jackson and they were huddled rather close.

Oh, that had been some crazy, mind-blowing sex. Jackson knew exactly what he was doing and was in complete control except for when she had grown impatient. She had been completely amazed. And to think that she would soon be married to him. Amnesia had sure been good to her; it had reunited her with the love of her life.

Mrs. Amy Alison Rippner… it had a nice ring to it. So did Mrs. Jackson Rippner.

She sighed and stretched. How on earth had she managed to get so damn lucky? After remembering the rape, she had assumed that her life had been horrible. But Jackson had changed everything. He always seemed to…

_"Sir, please don't make her do that. She's doing the best she can," she was speaking to a rather rude man._

_He replied, "I don't think I was talking to you."_

_"I realize that…"_

_"Listen, I'm just trying to get…" he had turned back to harassing the line lady._

Jackson's smooth voice interrupted, "Please, sir. Um, she's the only one standing between us getting out of here at all and total anarchy. "

_"Yeah, but she's not the one in…" began the nasty passenger as Jackson grabbed his wrist._

_"She's exhausted, she's worked eighteen hours straight, and she suspects that we all hate her just as much as you do. So what do you say we give her break? Let her get back to a job that I'm guessing is a lot more thankless than yours."_

A memory! A new memory of her and Jackson. He had stood up for what she had started in line. He had helped her out. She could remember being surprised at him speaking and she knew that he had been standing behind her the whole time, watching her and wondering how to approach her.

Then, she vaguely knew they had gone separate ways, she had been doused by an iced drink and later met him for drinks at the airport bar known as the Tex-Mex. They had spent a good amount of time talking.

Snatches of conversation returned to her. An uttered joke with a serious tone that had bothered her lingered in her head.

_"That's what I told them—before I killed them," Jackson said seriously._

She had never been sure if he had killed them or not. She wanted to know. Jackson groaned and rolled over to face her.

"Hey," he whispered, stroking her face with his thumb and smoothing her hair with another hand. "How are you doing?"

"Good. Um, Jackson?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you…" she sighed deeply. "Did you kill your parents?"

Shock crossed his face. "How…how did you remember that?"

"I just remembered you telling me that in the bar; I didn't know if you were joking or not," her voice was worried and she could not look him in the eyes.

"No, Amy, I didn't kill them. They died in a car accident. I'm responsible though—I ran away and they came after me in the rain and were hit by a drunk driver."

"Jackson—I had no idea…" she whispered softly, her heart falling. Jackson's words made sense now. He may not have killed them with his hands, but he still was in a twisted way responsible. Yet, he was not.

"Don't tell me it's not my fault. I don't want your pity," Jackson said sternly, before she could speak again.

"It's not pity," she spat back. "I'm just sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"Amy, you had every right to ask. You deserved to know."

"Now I know about your parents, but what about mine, Jackson? What happened to them?"

"I don't know," Jackson said quietly and sadly, shaking his head. "I honestly don't know what happened to them. You never talked about them."

"Never?" her voice was quiet and her lip trembling. Tears were threatening to spill over from her green eyes.

"No, I assume they died. That you were not close. They were your adoptive parents, remember?"

Amy nodded and Jackson pulled her close. "Hey, hey. It's okay."

No, it was not okay. It would never be okay. She did not know about her past and despite her excitement about her impending marriage to Jackson, she could not shake the bad feeling that haunted her. Something was not right. Something was very, very wrong. But what?

What did she not already know that could severely impact her life?

_"Wonders never cease…" Jackson was somewhat surprised._

**Author's Notes:**

She's suspicious, but she's not suspecting him. She has no reason to yet. But Jackson's nervous. He knows that she's close. Her questions are getting to him. Enjoy! Sorry that I forgot the warning before the last chapter—I went back and added it. My mistake. It won't happen again!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Thirteen**

All too soon, the day that they had both been looking forward to and dreading at the same time arrived. Jackson was going to be released from the hospital and so was Amy. She had demanded that they be released at the same time, even though she could have been free much earlier. She had nowhere to go and felt lost without. She refused to be separated him, even when the doctor's need to run tests and such she remained beside him and vice versa.

Jackson planned their wedding in the evenings while Amy slept curled up against him in his bed. She had never once slept in her own bed. She could not stand to be parted from him and he enjoyed it. It was a perfect example of his control over her.

He decided on a small ceremony with no visitors in a tiny church. It was best to keep their marriage a secret because of his employers. They had tried to kill her once before and thought they succeeded. If they learned that their former top manager was getting married, then they would be suspicious. And then his game would be over.

* * *

Jackson drove them to the church in a black BMW. It had been the same Beemer that he associate had driven to Joe Reisert's house on that fateful day, but he had ordered it painted black to avoid scaring her and causing any memories to return.

Always the gentleman, he opened the passenger door for Amy, who carefully stepped out in a gorgeous white gown that he had picked out for her. She had not minded because she wanted him to be happy. That was why she left the wedding to him and kept him in control.

"Ready?" he asked her, noticing her nervousness as her green eyes glanced at the church.

"Just a little bit," she said with a slight smile. "In a good way."

This was great. She was no longer lying to him at every turn and trying to deceive him. That was his job. He was the manipulator; the one in complete control. He needed to be for sanity's sake.

"That makes two of us," Jackson said with a sly smile as he led her into the church. He was nervous for other reasons though, mainly concerning how long they could go on like this.

Amy was remembering things daily. Her memories of her true name, of her family, and of he had done to her remained hidden. If she remembered any of those, then his plan was shot to hell and she would be out for his blood. He was playing with fire and Amy was a walking, talking, ticking time bomb. At any moment, she could learn the truth.

Jackson blocked out the priest's words until it came time to say 'I do' and make it official.

"Do you, Jackson Rippner, take Amy Adams to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love, honor, and cherish until death do you part?" questioned the priest, praying that this speedy wedding would end up all right and that the bride would not bolt for the door. That was common occurrence in these speedy weddings.

"I do," Jackson replied, a wide, smirk-like smile upon his face. Lisa was almost his. There would be no escape from him soon.

* * *

Her heart was racing. This was it. This was it. In a few seconds' time, she would be married to Jackson. She would legally belong to him, even though she had already given her heart to him freely and unknowingly sold her soul a while ago.

She was sure she wanted this—she wanted to his wife. Yet, a little nagging doubt sprung at the back of her mind, telling her that it was too soon, that she should wait. She should know him better before going through with this.

Her mind said no, but her heart took the plunge, leaping from the cliff and into Jackson's arms.

"Do you, Amy Adams, take Jackson Rippner to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love, honor, and cherish until death do you part?" the priest was asking her.

"I do, I do," she sobbed, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," the priest officiated.

Jackson's lips descended upon hers, forcefully and with a surprising passion. She threw her arms around his neck and he pulled her closer.

She was his. She was his…

* * *

After thanking the priest, Jackson drove Amy to the recently bought, freshly painted, and newly furnished house by the water. Amy has gasped upon spying the house, which was set a ways back from the road and protected by a forbidding steel gate and fence surrounding the property. The stone wonder was large enough, and fancy enough to be called a mansion.

"Welcome home, Amy," Jackson said, smiling and then leaning over to kiss her.

"Oh, I love it, Jackson!" Her delight showed through her excited words.

Jackson pulled in the circular drive and parked in front of the marble steps. He helped Amy from the car and scooped her up. She giggled as he tried to unlock the front door without dropping her. Somehow, he managed it, and carried her across the threshold and into the expansive entry hall. A glittering chandelier hung high from the cathedral ceiling. Amy's jaw dropped as she took in the high quality and expensive interior of her new home.

"How…how could you afford this?" she wanted to know, thoroughly impressed. She never would have guessed that Jackson was rich. He had never once spoken about his job.

"I made good money and I saved for several years. I worked non-stop while you were gone. It was easy to afford this," Jackson gestured to the house.

"Wow."

"Do you want to see the rest of the house?"

"Um, yeah, but first," she turned to whisper into his ear. His blue eyes held a mischievous glint as he nodded.

Jackson Rippner then picked up his new bride and carried her upstairs to their bedroom. They teased each other for a good long time before making love for the first time as husband and wife.

**Author's Notes:**

I think this was the longest chapter so far! The story is quickly coming to the end. This is the last time jump in the story. Enjoy!


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Fourteen**

The blaring of an alarm startled both Jackson and Amy the following morning. At first, Amy had figured it was an alarm clock, but Jackson's reaction scared her. He jumped out of the bed they shared, pulled his boxers and pants on, and grabbed two weapons from inside the nightstand. Amy gasped in shock.

"Throw something on, now," Jackson ordered, his voice sounding akin to a hiss.

Amy stumbled from the bed and buttoned up his shirt and slipped on her panties. She was not covered very well, but that did not matter at the moment. She was sacred to death.

Cool metal touched her hand and Amy yelped and jumped backwards as if she had been burned.

"Take it," he hissed, shoving the gun into her hand a second time. His blue eyes were cold, hardened steel. She trembled, her fear taking over her. What was happening?

"Jackson," she whimpered.

"Amy, take the goddamn gun!"

She nodded, shaking and closed her hand around the foreign object, which surprisingly did not feel foreign to her hand. It was reassuring.

Jackson twirled a knife in his right hand and his left hand closed around her wrist, his fingers sinking into the tender flesh. She gasped and a hurt look filled her face. He did not seem to notice as he dragged her from the bedroom and into the hallway.

"Stay close to me and be quiet," he commanded.

Something was wrong, very wrong. This was not her Jackson, not the one that she had fallen in love with. There something colder, more animalistic, more sadistic, about the man that was ordering her about than the man she had married. Why?

A flash—Jackson twirling a knife in the air as he aimed at her. Threatening her. Pissed, much like he was now.

A voice floated up from the entrance hall. The man said, "Hello, Rippner. Is that the lovely Miss Reisert that we keep hearing so much about?"

Jackson yanked Amy down the stairs and attacked the man, his knife flashing as she looked on in horror. In a matter of slashes, Jackson's bare chest was covered in the dead man's blood and Amy was screaming.

"Amy, stop screaming," he told her calmly, clamping a bloodstained hand over her mouth. Her green eyes were wide in terror.

The muffled screams ceased and Jackson withdrew his hand with a smile. "That's a good girl," he smirked, patting her cheek.

She shuddered at his touch and he seemed pissed. He shoved her into a nearby wall, his right hand tightening on her slender throat as she shivered. "No, don't hurt me," she pleaded.

"Are you afraid of me, Amy? Are you scared? Tell me!" he ordered.

"Yes, Jackson, you're scaring me!"

"Good."

She back in the confined airplane bathroom. Jackson had her beside the mirror, his hand on her throat and he was strangling her. He accused her of lying to him and seemed to enjoy her struggling. He noticed the scar, running his finger over it.

_"Did someone do that to you?" he questioned._

"It was you…" she gasped.

"What are you talking about?"

"You, you hurt me…"

"Where, Amy, tell me where…" he ordered, loosening his hold slightly but using his body to keep her slight body pinned to the wall.

"Bathroom. You were choking me."

Damn, she was remembering!

"Tell me, tell me what your name is."

"Amy Alison Adams Rippner…no…"

As soon as she spoke, she realized her mistake. She was not Amy. There was no Amy. She was a fabrication created by one Jackson Rippner.

She was Lisa Reisert.

**Author's Notes:**

Jackson's in for it now! Enjoy! Just one more chapter left!


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Sometimes…**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Fifteen**

"What?" Jackson demanded in a mocking tone.

"I'm not Amy—there never was an Amy."

"Very clever, Leese. Very clever," he smirked.

"Why, Jackson? Why'd you do it? Why go to the trouble?" Lisa demanded, her memory falling back into place.

"Why not? It was the perfect revenge."

Lisa felt disgusted. He was right. What better way to hurt her than to make her fall in love with him, only to crush her?

"I can't believe I trusted you."

"You did more than that, Lisa. You loved me.Remember? You're my wife now."

"No," she shook her head. "Amy is your wife. I'm not Amy."

"Perhaps you want to take a look at the marriage license. It says 'Lisa Henrietta Reisert Rippner'."

"No."

Jackson smirked. Lisa felt terrible. This could not be happening. She could not be legally married to Jackson. That was almost worse than having feelings for him and oh, god, she had slept with him. She felt filthy.

"Like I promised, Lisa, you're mine. There's no getting away."

She screamed in frustration and struggled violently. Jackson laughed and easily kept her pinned down to the wall.

"Tsk, tsk," he reprimanded her. "What happened to behaving?"

"It went out the window when you stopped playing fair," she hissed.

"Lisa, honey, I never played fair."

"And I never behaved, remember?" she smirked at him, tracing a finger around the hole in his throat. "I fought the entire time."

Two could play this sick, twisted game of manipulation. They were both playing to win, and winning meant living. Jackson may have the upper hand at the moment, but Lisa was determined to change that. He had wronged her. He had used her for his own pleasure, as if she were some type of plaything for his demented mind games.

"And I rather enjoyed it, until you decided to stab me."

"You strangled me first."

"Lisa, let's not play these petty games. As much as I enjoy them, I enjoy you much more. Now what do you say we go back upstairs, huh?"

"I'm not your pet!" Lisa spat.

"Yes, you are. You're my wife, Leese. You're mine. You'll listen to your master. If I say jump, you ask how high."

"Never."

"Lisa, stop fighting. You know you don't want to. Plus, it's pointless. There is no escape from this house."

He was right; her beautiful house was nothing more than an elegant prison. Iron gates kept her fenced in. Wherever she ran, he would surely catch her. But maybe she did not need to escape—he would have followed her anyway. She just needed to out run him long enough to tip the scales in her favor.

She sighed dejected. "You're right."

"Good girl, Lisa. Now, go upstairs. No sudden movements or my knife will find its way into your back."

She nodded, unable to look in his eyes. He smiled triumphantly and released her. She slowly walked up the stairs, passing the dead man in her foyer, and knew Jackson was only a step behind her. The stairs were too risky.

Jackson was a psychopath—how could she have been so blind? How could she have possibly loved him? How on earth had she missed all the signs?

She was supposed to be strong, yet she had let him worm his way into her frozen heart and take advantage. What he had done was far worse than rape. She had been dominated and controlled by him through the manipulation of her own feelings. He had taken a guess and played the cards right, forcing her into his well-laid trap.

They reached the top of the stairs and Lisa wondered vaguely if she were going to her own execution.

"Now, stop," Jackson ordered. "Turn around and face me."

Lisa did as she was told, despite the urge to lash out. Now was not the time. She had to play the helpless victim a little while longer.

"I want you to look into my eyes—look at me, Leese," he hissed, grabbed her chin and pulling her face towards his. "Look in my eyes and tell me that you don't love me."

"You're despicable," she snarled.

"You still love me, Lisa. You know it."

"No, I don't Jack. I can't stand you."

Jackson pretended to be wounded. "Aw, that hurt."

She snorted.

"Okay, I'm gonna tell you what's gonna happen. We're going to go into the room," he pointed to their bedroom. Lisa felt sick. "And you're gonna…"

She could not take it anymore. She brought her head forward and head-butted him. He cried out more in surprise than pain. Lisa brought her knee into his groin, eliciting a moan from him as he crumbled to the floor. She snatched up the knife from him, keeping it from him.

He yanked her ankle, pulling her down to the floor with a yelp. She kicked him in the face, breaking his nose with a crunch. He growled at her as she clamored to her feet and took off, into the bedroom, headed for the nightstand.

Sure enough, there was another gun and she recognized it as hers. She ran her hand over the .45, cherishing the familiarity of the gun. How had Jackson gotten it?

"Lisa," he rasped, his thin frame blocking the doorway. "You're making this way too much fun, you know? I always loved the chase—that's why I picked you."

"No, you picked me because you thought I was easy. I was a target."

His eyes flicked to the gun in her hand. "You think you could really kill me, Leese?"

"I know I could, Jack. I've known since I almost killed your sorry ass. I wish I had finished it then."

He jumped at her, knocking her to the floor. The gun skittered out of her grasp, sliding away on the hardwood floor. She screamed and punched at him, telling him to let her go. He pressed into her, holding her body down with his.

"No! No! Jackson, no!" she cried, fighting as much as she could. This could not be happening. Not again!

"What? You think I'm going to rape you, Lisa?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I think!"

She hated him; she hated that he knew everything about her. He could crawl inside her brain and know her feelings and thoughts before she did. It was an invasion of privacy.

"I wouldn't do that to you."

"I don't believe you. I can't trust you, Jackson!"

"Is that what this is all about? Trust? Lisa, you can't trust anyone. Anyone but me. I never lie, remember?" he was smirking again, cocky and pleased with himself.

She stopped fighting again. He kissed her forcefully and caused her to moan in pleasure. She hated her body's response to him. She wanted to hate him, she really did.

"Jackson," she gasped as his kisses trailed away from her mouth. "If we're gonna do this, can we do it on the bed? Please?"

Jackson sighed and helped her up. She elbowed him in the stomach, causing him to double over and slid across the floor in search of her gun. She found it and ran past him, back into the hallway.

"You're a feisty little bitch, you know that Leese?" he called after her.

She was waiting for him, both hands on the gun. Her finger was on the trigger and the safety catch was off. She was going to kill him.

"And you never learn."

"So, tell me, Lisa… Where are you gonna shoot me? The head? The heart?"

In response, Lisa shot him in the right knee. He cried out and fell down, sagging against a large window that over looked the backyard. "Bitch!" he hissed.

"Bastard!" she smirked, shooting him in the left knee now.

Crimson blood was pooling around him on the tile of the hallway. "You're running your house, Lisa."

"Shut up, Jack. I refuse to be your puppet."

"You seemed to enjoy listening to my commands last night."

Lisa let out a disgusted gasp and shot him in the right shoulder. He only winced this time.

"You know, I always wondered how you'd kill people, Leese. You'd make a good assassin or a manger," he smiled, baiting her.

"Never."

Bang! Another bullet lodged itself in Jackson's left shoulder.

"Aw, what a shame—we would have been a great team."

Lisa really wanted to stick a bullet between his crystal eyes but she wanted him to suffer longer. He needed to feel pain after what he had done to her.

"Gonna hit my heart next, Lisa? The heart that constantly thinks of you?" he teased.

Lisa took a step closer. Jackson's bloody chest heaved and he leaned heavily on the window.

"No, I'm going to do this," she hissed, striking the window with the gun, releasing her anger on the weakened glass. She beat her fists as well, blooding her knuckles. Jackson weakly laughed at her. The window was not coming down.

She turned on the gun on it; firing three widespread shots into the glass. Jackson's eyes went wide in shock as he heard the glass crackling.

"Good-bye, Jack," she hissed as he fell through the window, falling almost three stories below to meet his fate on the patio.

"Love you, Leese," he gasped before falling.

Lisa rushed to the window frame, looking down. Jackson Rippner lay below, his body splayed at odd angles and his neck broken.

Lisa took a deep breath before calmly calling the police to collect two bodies—the dead man in the foyer and the body of her husband. Her abuser, her controller…her love.

* * *

Two months later, Lisa attended Jackson'squiet funeral. Joe had urged her not to, but she had insisted upon laying her demons to rest. She was left alone for a few moments before the casket was closed. Jackson was dressed in a fresh suit and his blue eyes were closed forever. He looked as if he were sleeping, yet Lisa knew that the collar hid a broken, scarred neck, the jacket covering the two bullet wounds in the shoulders, and the neatly pressed pants covered his blown knees. All of it was her doing. The only piece of him, not injured was his face, and even then, his broken nose had been set as best it could.

"I'm sorry that it had to end this way, but I could never have lived that way. Neither of us could. I hope you understand..." her voice trailed off.

Lisa bent down and kissed Jackson. His face was cold, but she did not care. He could not hurt her anymore.

"I still love you," she whispered, before closing the lid herself, locking Jackson's body in the polished box for eternity.

Her right hand found its way to her stomach. Inside, a child was growing. Their child… And one day, she would have to explain why they did not have a father. She would have to explain that she loved Jackson too much and that was why she had to kill him.

The truth hurt…

**Author's Notes:**

That's all! Okay, this was the longest chapter. Hopefully that ties everything up. Enjoy!


End file.
